I am a Pilgrim
I find myself drawn by Christ to holy places as I grow in years. I do not want to be a mere tourist, snapping pictures and checking off locations. I have a pilgrim's heart, seeking holy places and holy spaces to gain an even greater sense of intimacy with God.
This internal sensation to spend time with Christ is fanned as I participate in Sunday Mass. The presence of Christ in the Eucharist feeds my soul while tickling my feet. He tells me to find Him where his holy people have tread in eras before me.
Early Christians traveled across harsh terrain, endangering their lives, to visit the places where Christ trod and his disciples died. I, on the other hand, can traverse thousands of miles in the comfort of a car, plane, or train. How much easier it is for me to see what they saw, smell what they smelled, touch what they touched?
I am drawn by the same need, albeit over 2000 years removed, to sit, pray, and listen in the same spaces where a woman gave birth, a child played, a God-man preached, a slab of rock cradled a human form, and his followers died.
For now, I am content with my Sunday pilgrimage to our parish tabernacle. But when the world wakes from this slumber, my feet will move my pilgrim heart to shrines and hallowed ground. My heart does not rest as it seeks God's earthly accommodations in the Holy Land. This is my pilgrim resolution.
(Note: the picture is from my Medjugorje pilgrimage, not the Holy Land.)